The last of June in the Chicago heat
- Melissa Herrera: Not Waiting for Friday
- July 6, 2025
- 346
I went to Chicago last weekend because my friend is a K-pop fan. If you don’t know what K-pop is, look it up. She had an extra ticket for The Stray Kids concert, which had been meant for her daughter, but when her daughter couldn’t go, she invited our small friend group to come along. They went to the concert, and I held down the Airbnb and ordered pizza for their return.
Last week may have been one of the hottest weeks I’ve ever lived through. We pulled into Chicago (Wrigleyville area) with minutes to spare for them to reach the concert on foot. It was the dampest, most humid of days, and when they came back, they were drenched in sweat but happy as clams. The concert was a success. I love seeing my friends happy, just like they love seeing me happy.
We had several days stretching ahead of us to do what we wanted. We took an architectural boat tour of the downtown buildings, gliding along the Chicago River. The sun was intense, and my skin, already tanned from working outside and mowing, added an extra layer of gold. I loved the stories behind each building that rose stories and stories high.
We drank lazy coffees, visited Millennium Park, where Cloud Gate (the bean) reflected our sweaty selves. It was in the 90s with high humidity, and the heat emanating off the structure made me feel I would be beamed up to outer space any second.
The burrata and pasta I had on the last night will stay with me, but much more is the deepening of friendships I care about and want to cultivate. Nothing beats drinking semi-good Keurig coffee in your pajamas while discussing anything and everything that pops into your head — our children, our husbands, and our pets who sneak outside and get lost in the neighborhood.
My good friend told me we can only physically care about 300 people in a tight circle. While my heart feels upended with current affairs, she reminded me to step back and reflect on what I can do versus what breaking my brain trying to do it all will do.
Sometimes stepping away for a super-short getaway can do that. But I know myself and know I can only set it aside for a minute.
My favorite part of the trip was the list of thrift stores I curated. We browsed and dug, allowing the ambience of a Saturday morning in the city to overtake us. I let my hand slide over old portraits and coffee mugs, ultimately buying an old orange Pyrex bowl with wheat on the side. I love Pyrex and don’t know their true pattern names, only that it spoke to me and wanted a ride home to Ohio. I obliged, tucking her under my arm.
The road doesn’t wait, and soon — after securing hot coffees and Mexican pastries at a local spot — we pointed the car to 90 East and started the trek home. The last miles rolled themselves up, and I met my husband with a kiss and a sigh. Home once again. Always glad to leave and always glad to come home.
Melissa Herrera is a reflective writer who captures the beauty and sorrow of change. With a career spanning 14 years as an opinion columnist and the publication of two books, she resides in Stark County with her husband and four cats. She writes to preserve memories. You can reach her at junkbabe68@gmail.com.